Halo Effect//S.M.

Dying is the best option

I stepped into the hallway behind Shawn and realize I still had absolutely no idea where my counselors class was, so reluctantly I ask the magenta heeled lady for directions.

She points me down a corridor and I walk down the now deserted hallways to presumably, my shrink. I reach a classroom with around four other teenagers sitting in a circle on plastic chairs meant for second graders with small bodies and attention spans that amounted to nothing.

Recognizing the teacher in the room as the man who had spoken to me earlier, I walk in. Immediately the rooms gaze is turned on me and I feel red hot judgement seething into my skin.

I take a seat beside a boy with shaggy blonde hair and eyes that never ceased to explore every single crevice of the small room.

The counselor coughs, directing the groups stares away from me and over to him. "So Matthew would you like to continue"? His eyes were directed at the boy beside me who I expect had been saying something before I interrupted.

"Oh, yes I'm sorry, Mr.Caliway what was the question"?

Caliway, noted.

"What is it that makes dying seem like such a good option"?

I tried to refrain from staring but Matthew's face crinkled in such a way as he was thinking that it made him look extremely and undeniably interesting. "By the time suicide comes into mind the person in reality is already dead, the worst kind of it, dead inside. Dying is the best option because death already consumes you".

Damn he's depressing.

"Excellent answer Matt, would anyone like to add"? No one said anything and it was obvious to see that Mr.Caliway's face had sunk. "Meredith, perhaps you'd like to introduce yourself"?

Shit.

Much to my dismay I nod and stand up from the plastic chair. "My name is Meredith Young, I'm 17, I only got here three hours ago and already I hate this hell hole".

I sat back down receiving nods of agreement from the circle. I looked to Mr.Caliway and for the second time I watched his face lower with disappointment.

I pretended to listen during the rest of the time and fought my mind from wandering back to the days before I'd been sent here.

**FLASHBACK**

I traced my finger over the quintessential looking buildings and smiling teens on the cover of the pamphlet I'd been handed.

"I don't understand why you're making me go". I fought back tears as I avoided eye contact with my mother.

"You know you can't keep doing this to yourself"! She reached over forcefully pulling up my sleeve to reveal bruises of all different sizes. It was true I had given myself those bruises but not all of them.

She contributed along with my father in those bruises. Maybe not physically but emotionally yes.

"For an entire school year though"? I'll admit I was unhappy about being sent to an "rehabilitation and healing center" it sounded as if I was a drug addict, but it would be nice to get away.

"Meredith you know I am far too busy to deal with this any longer. You're going no exceptions."

My mother, a business woman was always far to busy for me in fact the chat we'd just had was the first one in weeks. She made money however where my father didn't.

My father, a drunk never had time for me either. When he did happen to see me I'm almost certain he, in his drunken state mistakes me for the maid and screams about how I hadn't washed the dishes. My mother is blind to all of the shit he puts on the both of us, so she stays married to him. Why exactly, I don't know.
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